


Here

by JJGrace42



Series: Scrapbook of a Dimension-Traveling Sideshow [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 17:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11257914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJGrace42/pseuds/JJGrace42
Summary: In which Minato is a little bit worried, Naruto is a little bit loud, and Mirai is a little bit different.





	Here

**Author's Note:**

> Author Note: This was a different path I took with the whole “What if Minato survived and was there for her nightmare” idea. Pretty different from the other snippet I posted. This is more just snapshots of the first couple years of the twins’ life with their father. I hope you enjoy. Read and review!  
> DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, Minato isn’t mine. Nor is Naruto, both the character and the story. Mirai is also not mine; she’s an independent woman who don’t need no author.

Naruto slept. A lot.

He’d been worried at first— _what if he’s sick? does he have chakra exhaustion? what do I do if he doesn’t wake up?_ —and it had taken Tsunade literally slapping him to halt his panic attack in its tracks. Then she had sat him down and explained in very clear, very loud, and very angry terms that Naruto was a normal, perfect, healthy child. The lecture was several hours long and took up most of his work day. At the end of it, Minato had glanced away from the diagrams thrust in his face and simply asked, “So Naruto’s okay?”

As it turned out, he was.

When he wasn’t sleeping, Naruto ate. And ate. And ate. And ate. And ate. Sometimes Minato worried about Konoha running out of formula. But eventually, Naruto would be satisfied and he would get just a couple minutes of peace with his son before he fell asleep again. He practically lived for those small moments, holding the fragile being that was his own flesh and blood and watching as those small eyes tried to focus in on the world around him. Minato would whisper his name to him— _Naruto, his sweet Naruto—_ and play with his tiny feet.

But then Naruto would fall back asleep and it would be over.

* * *

 

Mirai was not a happy child.

Her screaming kept him up at all hours of the night and his body hurt from the lack of sleep. His heart hurt more, however, because his daughter was crying and there wasn’t anything he could do. He would hold her, but she would simply writhe angrily in his arms, almost like the contact was too painful for her to bear. When he tried to sing her to sleep, her cries only got louder and more raw. Maybe he was doing it wrong, and the thought that he didn’t know what he was doing as a father hung heavy around his neck.

“Chakra hypersensitivity.”

Minato jerked his head up and blinked the tiredness from his eyes. He wasn’t sure anymore if the screaming in his ears was just echoes or actually Mirai. “Sorry, what?”

“Your daughter has chakra hypersensitivity,” Tsunade repeated, crossing her arms and staring down her nose at him. “Meaning, your daughter is extremely reactive to chakra. It hurts her.”

“A-and the holding is—“

“Negligible. As long as you avoid chakra use around her until her coils are more developed, there shouldn’t be any serious consequences.”

“But the screaming. And the—“

The woman grunted, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him to his feet. “Sometimes kids are just angry and loud, Minato. There’s nothing you can do about it. It’s not your fault—it’s not anyone’s fault. That’s just how she is. Give her a while; she’ll calm down. They always do.”

* * *

 

He should have died instead.

Kushina, after all, was the one that should have been there with the kids. She was more prepared, more ready, more experienced with the idea of _family._ He’d never really thought about balancing life as a father and as Hokage before because he’d never imagined it without her. And he often found himself wishing that he’d died in Kushina’s place; maybe they needed a mother more than they needed him.

And then Mirai stopped making noise.

It wasn’t that her screams died off, or that she didn’t cry as much, or even that she was quieter. She simply stopped. He snapped his head up, flailing wildly for a moment before peeling the document—probably something important, but he didn’t really care—from his cheek. “Mirai?” he slurred tiredly, his ears ringing from the sudden lack of sound. It took a moment for him to register that there was no sound at all. Not even the sound of breathing.

His heart rammed against his lungs— _she wasn’t breathing, she wasn’t crying_ —and he nearly broke his own ankle as he stumbled over to the crib. Minato curled his fingers tightly around the railing, feeling the wood give beneath his grip, and he stared fearfully down into the bed.

She stared back at him with wide eyes— _Kushina’s eyes._

“You’re okay,” he murmured. “You’re okay, and you’re not crying.” He reached down and then suddenly pulled back, hesitating. She could start screaming again, and that was the last thing he wanted.

A gurgle. He looked down to find her tiny arms waving towards him. She made another odd sound and he felt his heart crumble. “Mirai-chan,” he whispered, lifting her delicate body into his arms. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

* * *

 

His kids couldn’t be more different.

Naruto was a menace to society—a cheerful, ramen-loving, orange-wearing, happy menace, but a menace nonetheless. He spent his days running up and down the halls of the Tower, leaving devastation in his wake. His ecstatic laughter echoed through the building like a nightmare. Minato loved his son, but sometimes he wondered if Naruto was the devil.

Mirai was not her brother. She was quiet, a stark contrast to the screaming she’d done in her first few weeks of life. Sometimes it scared him because she would go hours, even complete days, without saying a single word. He worried. But Mirai seemed to live in her own little world—a world that revolved around Naruto. The most she spoke was around her brother, her sentences filled with soft echoes of _Nato_ as she playfully ruffled his hair.

But sometimes she stared at Minato like she wasn’t seeing him at all.

* * *

 

Someone was screaming.

That was all Minato knew as he snapped out of bed, landing on the floor in a crouch with a kunai clutched in his hand. He blinked, glancing around the empty room. He wasn’t under attack. But someone was still screaming. He tilted his head and rose slowly to his feet. It was the screaming of a child. But that couldn’t be possible. There weren’t any—

His heart stopped twice in the time it took him to make it down the hallway. He slammed open the door and stood there, chest heaving. His gaze danced over the room—no intruder—before snapping to Naruto’s bed.

It wasn’t him crying.

“Mirai,” he muttered incredulously, stumbling towards her. She was curled in on herself, clawing at her chest and shrieking like her lungs were burning. “Mirai,” he said, the reality finally settling in. He snatched her up into his arms, cradling the toddler against his chest. “Shh, Mirai,” he murmured. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I promise.” He tucked his head against hers, closing his eyes as her screams died off into choked sobs. “It’s okay. Touchan’s here. Touchan’s here, Mirai. I promise.”

Then her sobs wound down into whimpers and she clung desperately to him as if she was expecting him to disappear. “Touchan,” she whispered, her voice raw.

“I’m here, sweetheart. Touchan’s here.”


End file.
